The Bliss of Ignorance
by TheGreatFlyingKiwi
Summary: "Of course he knows. How could he not?" Carl Emma&Will One shot. Please R


**The Bliss of Ignorance**

Carl Howell considered himself quite a smart man. Of course he _hadn't_ quite passed that medical exam that would've led him onto the path of being a cardiothoracic surgeon but other than that he had no reason to doubt his intellect.

He was one of the top recommended dental practitioners in the district. Loved by old cronies and primary kids alike, he had a gleaming record.

That flawless reputation carried over into his personal life as well. He had always been described as a gentleman through and through. The 'strong and silent' type; he had always found it easy around members of the opposite sex.

But there was just one woman who continued to elude him.

He still remembered their first appointment as if it were yesterday. Bright shoes, blouse and skirt matched with the pair of dazzling eyes clashing with her shy voice and demeanor. Rosy pink lips framing pearl white teeth; Perfect. Not a cavity or dent anywhere. But he still found ways to see her even though she never needed an extra appointment. Tactfully leaving the discounted teeth cleaning session's pamphlet on the counter during one of her appointments he could count on not having to rely on the mandatory check every six months. She seemed to have a thing for pamphlets.

He had hoped his attempt at courting her would not have come from her heartache. The usual swoop of her flaming hair was droopy when she slunk in that fateful afternoon. She seemed quite emotional during the appoinment so he showed her his back room. Her doe eyes seemed to glimmer with something other than tears while she examined the various machines. So though he felt pity for her pain, he still made the most of the opportunity and asked her out for dinner. She had said she wasn't the simplest person to be in a relationship with but accepted.

They had seen each other every day since then.

He got to see the women behind the colorful clothes and shine brooches. A passionate spirit who was selfless for the people she cared about and soon Carl was sure he could count himself as one of those few. She told him about her pain, slowly but honestly. He understood the story behind the stacks of hand sanitizer and disposable gloves. About what drove her to work with these kids who had no one else to turn to and finally about him.

In a way, Carl had always known about him. He knew Emma had been unlucky in love (God knows who would hurt someone as gentle as her) and that perpetrator still held her heart. She had even said she wasn't easy to love.

In the first few weeks of their relationship he had deluded himself into thinking she was over him. That if he was caring enough, patient enough, that he could make her forget about him.

He was pretty sure it has worked. She was happy to see him when she has got back from a stressful day at school. She held his hand when they walk down the street after dinner and gazes into his eyes when the chat about nothing in particular.

But that is only some of time. She has constantly lamented that the man is out of her life but Carl knows different. Of course he knows. How could he not. She hid her feelings well though. But even her strong armor had cracks and those are the times are when he sees the effect that man had on her.

Sometimes, even when they are deep in conversation, her eyes slip out of focus and he can see in their endless depths that she is thinking about him. One night when they were watching a movie at his house, she dozed off on the couch, a small smile tugging at her lips, he intertwined his fingers in hers and she sighed in her sleep,

"Will."

His heart chips a bit more.

Carl never told her of his suspicions. He loved her too much. Yes, he had fallen for the trembling voice and quiet laugh. Even in knowing that she was never really his, he had let her into his heart, and he wasn't going to give up.

Emma had told him through tears, how that man had decreed his love for her and stolen a kiss (Carl burned with fury at that, any kisses he got was quick and few). He had shushed her sobs with meaningless words of comfort. That it didn't matter to him, that as long as she was here she would never be hurt again.

He was certain that she wasn't, that she would never cheat on him. No matter how much she missed that god dammit Spanish teacher, Carl knew Emma was a better person than that. But he still made an attempt to see her every day. To remind her of who really loved her.

He felt as selfish, holding onto her like this. Knowing that she yearned for another smile, another pair of eyes, another kiss. But he honestly believed that she cared for him too. That if he held on long enough she would forget the other man and realize how lucky she was to have him.

So he carried an extra pack of wet wipes whenever she stayed for dessert. Spent an extra hour making dinner to make sure everything was dairy free and never commented when she skipped their date because she 'had a headache'.

It wasn't until he went to the school to pick her up one day while her car was at the mechanics that he realized it had to stop. He stood out in the car park, leaning against his truck waiting for her to finish up some paperwork. Teenagers spilled out of the door, oblivious to the world around them, and in amongst the throng was the red head – and a curly topped teacher. Carl's muscles tensed in fury as he watched the two, admittedly awkwardly, converse. He could see, even from here, the looks of longing and almost feel the tension between them.

A voice spoke up beside him.

"You know her?" a rather large, brutish looking man asked, matching his line of sight.

Carl nodded cautiously.

"I heard she's got herself a new man. Supposedly trying to get over Schuester, again." He continued resting his hands on the belt of his too short shorts.

"Do you think it'll work?" Carl asked desperately, needing confirmation that all his efforts weren't for nothing.

The man shook his head. "No matter how bad Schuester seems, he makes her happy – when he's not being a dick."

Carl hung his head in defeat as the man walked away. Soon enough he could hear the familiar clip clop of her heels as she reached his car.

"Hi Carl." She smiled touching his arm.

He looked up and admired her glowing face for one last time then opened her door for her.

"C'mon, let's go. We need to talk."

Confusion glossed her eyes but she got in anyway.

When they got back to her house, he stopped the car outside and surrendered.

The relief that flickered across her face killed him even more than the thought of losing her forever did. She thanked him quietly, a chaste kiss to the cheek and got out. He sat in the car for a minute then drove off hoping she knew what she was doing and trying to ignore the pain that was facing the truth.

**Yes my inability to hate anything on Glee has kicked in again - and we haven't even met the character yet! So yup, I'm trying my hand at redeeming his already doomed rep and I felt like writing something Wemma. Hate it? Love it? Press that lovely review button and let me know.**


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